


Honeydew

by camakitsune



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Asmodeus - Freeform, Cooking, Demon Deals, Emotional Constipation, Gender Dysphoria, Implied/Referenced Violence, Leviathan - Freeform, Lucifer - Freeform, Other, Post-RAD Exchange, Power Imbalance, Rating May Change, Satan - Freeform, Sexual Fantasy, Slice of Life, belphegor - Freeform, mammon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:35:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25889698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camakitsune/pseuds/camakitsune
Summary: After being sacrificed to a demon, contracting with him to work as his pet chef isn't the worst outcome. Still, learning how to cook for Beelzebub is far from the hardest adjustment to life with the seven rulers of Hell when Bea has his own inner demons to cope with.
Relationships: Beelzebub (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 29
Kudos: 59





	1. Enter Bea

**Author's Note:**

> In addition to tags, please consider the rating of this fic to be indicative of the fic as a whole. While I don't intend for this fic to be all doom and gloom, dark topics will be implied, explored, or revisited throughout the fic. I employ a minimalistic approach to tagging. I am willing to consider requests for additional warnings, but please exercise caution if you have any particular sensitivity to violence/gore, portrayals of gender dysphoria, or relationships with power imbalances. Browse safe!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bea would be a lot more active in his first look at his new home, probably, if the world would stop spinning.

First, Hell didn’t look at all like what Bea imagined. But apparently he was given a shortcut around the ugly parts.

Second, with a high-profile name like Beelzebub, Bea expected his new warden to be more consistently terrifying. But he was incredibly tolerant of Bea’s slowed steps and uncertain clinging to his arm. Not that he had anything to prove at this point.

The house where Beelzebub lived wasn’t much of a surprise after Bea already adjusted to walking though what looked like a city: store fronts, restaurants, lamp-lit cobblestone. He kind of expected more pomp and circumstance to meet them at the door – servants and guard demons, perhaps – but he appreciated the lack of such fuss while the world still moved with what looked like a trail effect and what felt like the mouth of some beast locked on his head.

Beelzebub mentioned that the place was called the House of Lamentation and that was the extent of detail Bea cared to take in. The lights inside were bright enough to burn in his state, and the glimpses of ornate decor and intricate flooring patterns were too much to process.

Beelzebub showed him a guest room, mercifully dim and overgrowing with some kind of ivy. The bed was bare but still a bed. By virtue of that fact, it was the best-looking thing he encountered here so far.

“I’m thinking we can make this your room. We don’t have a lot of guests anyway, plus it’s right beside the kitchen.”

The better to drag him out of bed and into the cooking pot just as soon as he got comfortable, probably.

Beelzebub proceeded to escort him to the kitchen. In other circumstances, Bea might have been ecstatic over it. A big kitchen like he always wished for, even knowing he wouldn’t be on the housing market for another decade. It looked both cozy and spacious, with an island, a wood-fired stove, and a walk-in fridge. A veritable workshop of food prep.

And it was going to be where Bea earned his stay for the next, what? Week? Month? An anxiety bled into the forefront of his mind. He couldn’t remember for sure if they agreed to any particular duration.

Despite himself, intrigue creeped forth at the unfamiliar foods in the walk-in and the unexplored inner layouts of the kitchen cabinets. That intrigue came coupled with an equal and opposite hope: that this was some kind of mid-recovery hallucination, or perhaps a dream entirely. It wasn’t a very compelling hope. Bea never wondered if he was dreaming when he dreamed.

Beelzebub started browsing the cabinets. Bea was still too nauseated to worry about food quite yet. He squatted in the corner by the sink, cradling his face in one hand.

“You should eat,” Beelzebub said, bags crinkling through his searching. 

“I feel like I’ll throw up if I just think about food too hard,” Bea answered.

“You need to eat something if you want to fight the poison. Drink some water too.”

At least the new owner of his soul wanted him to be well for now. Maybe he’d be kept alive for more than a day or two after all.

“You’ll at least want to feel as good as you can when we tell Lucifer about this.”

“Tell Lucifer about what?” a new voice asked, its owner obscured by the island. Bea didn’t want to deal with the dizziness of standing quite yet, but he noted Beelzebub had stopped what he was doing to address them. “I got your message. Coming from you, I trust this is serious.”

“I got a live offering from the human world,” Beelzebub answered.

“And you brought this offering here, I presume?”

“Yeah.” He nodded down toward Bea.

Steps tapped around the island until Bea found himself face-to-face with (who he assumed was) another demon, dressed similarly to Beelzebub, in some kind of dark uniform. He folded his arms firmly and carried the graceful authority that was already intimidating enough on humans. Perhaps staying crouched wasn’t the most respectful first impression with a demon named Lucifer.

Bea straightened, still squatting but upright now so the sigil high on his chest was visible. Just that amount of righting himself made the room teeter.

“Well then. What’s your name?” Lucifer asked, still as a summer night.

He started to answer, then looked to Beelzebub for reassurance. Was there some kind of danger in telling demons his name? He didn’t know the damn rules. 

But Beelzebub gave a sober nod. If nothing else, Bea assumed he wouldn’t just let another demon snatch up his new acquisition so easy.

“Gladys Beatriz Freeman. But I go by Bea.”

“He’s been poisoned,” Beelzebub added. “Trying to get him to eat something.”

“For now, get him some bread and we’ll relocate to my study.”

Bea complied with being helped up to his feet and offered a slice of hard, strangely grassy-smelling bread. Lucifer was just about as enormous as Beelzebub, leaving Bea the odd one out struggling to keep up with their long-legged strides. Beelzebub called for them to slow when Bea’s hold on his arm grew to a drag, and for that, he was grateful.

“How about we start at the beginning,” Lucifer said once they were all seated in his study. It was mercifully dim in there, even more so than the kitchen.

Bea quietly cradled about three quarters of the slice of bread, the wrapped loaf in his lap, so Beelzebub answered.

“There’s this cult that’s been trying to get in touch with me,” he started. “I’ve been ignoring them since their offerings were usually small. Goats and pigs, stuff like that. But then I got a notification that they were making a human sacrifice, so I went to check it out.”

Bea remembered the hazy terror of realizing he had been drugged but unable to fight off the hands dragging him to their car. Neither demon shied from the topic, though both looked serious.

“They had already stabbed him in the chest when I got there,” Beelzebub continued. “He was going to die if I didn’t interfere.”

Bea found he couldn’t even nibble the bread anymore.

“And I’m guessing that mark of yours is proof that you did,” Lucifer concluded.

“Yeah.”

Lucifer shook his head. “You’re very fortunate Beel saved you,” he addressed Bea. “But I can’t say I’m happy to hear about a cult that’s willing to make human sacrifices running around up there. That’s a PR nightmare waiting to happen. And we made such strides with the exchange pilot.”

“I took care of that,” Beelzebub said.

“What did you do?”

Bea remembered their terrified screams while his chest stitched itself shut and he choked up what blood had spilled into his lungs. By the time he could take a full breath between coughs, the screaming was silenced. His stomach threatened to invert when he recalled the sounds of meat tearing and bones crunching.

Lucifer’s eyes went wide at Beelzebub’s curt three-word answer, then they darted back to Bea. He didn’t know what that look was for, but in another moment, Lucifer’s shock morphed into a knowing smile. “I see,” he answered, still looking at Bea. “All things considered, there could have been worse outcomes. I’ll leave it to Diavolo to decide. You have twenty-four hours to file a report for an emergency crossing.”

Beelzebub nodded.

“Now then, what are we to do about Bea? I imagine if you planned on eating him, you’d have done so already.” He sure was fucking casual about suggesting that right in front of him.

“You know how I wanted to have a pet chef someday?” A pet? “Bea said he could cook. I thought he could stay in the guest room next to the kitchen since it’s been empty for a while now.”

“I recall. I can’t say I like having surprise residents, but you have a pact, and this isn’t like the others and their witches. It wouldn’t do to leave him to fend for himself, would it?” His brow lifted wrinkles up into his forehead as he considered. More than anything, he looked like the parent who just learned a stray cat had been rescued into his house. “Very well. Get that room prepared as soon as possible. Just don’t think this gets you out of your kitchen duty.”

Bea took to nibbling the grassy bread again. He could deal with a mildly exasperated acceptance of his presence.

“Anything else you’d like to discuss?”

“That was all.” Beelzebub looked to Bea, who simply shrugged without any idea what questions he should even ask.

“Then you’re dismissed.”

Beelzebub stood, and as Bea started to lift off the chair as gingerly as possible, Lucifer called his name.

“Do you mind if I have a word with you?”

Beelzebub offered a reassuring smile and a nod, so he figured it was safe enough. “Okay,” he answered, belatedly realizing they were waiting for a response. He didn’t know for sure that he truly was okay with it. But until he had seen otherwise, and until he was mentally all there again, he could only err on the side of compliance.

“I’ll be right outside,” Beelzebub said, walking out.


	2. Ground Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laying the groundwork for Bea's stay.

This had gone on far too long to be a dream. Bea could only suspend his belief in his experience for so long. He felt too small. He felt like it was some kind of mistake. Upon having his nonbelieving worldview rent, the first demons he met are Beelzebub and Lucifer and none of it involved fire nor brimstone nor unthinkable tortures.

“You must have had quite the experience,” Lucifer said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah.” He noticed the phonograph, the packed bookshelves, the shelf lined with rows of bottles. It was easier to look at anything but Lucifer. It was easier to reconcile the existence of anything but Lucifer. “I still don’t really feel like all of this is real yet.”

“Not to worry, you’ll adjust soon enough. As for the others, you’ll get to meet them in due time. It’s been a while since we last had a human among us, you see.”

“Who are the others?”

“Our brothers. There are seven of us. But I’ll let Beel get you acquainted with them. I just want to establish some ground rules before I send you on your way.”

Bea frowned a little. “Okay.”

“An agreeable one. I appreciate that. To start, there’s a curfew in place every school night at 11 p.m. until 5 a.m. the following morning. You are to stay in your room during those hours.”

“I can do that.” The school night thing was a surprise. He’d have to ask Beel about that later.

“Next, kitchen duty is assigned to us brothers on a rotating schedule. I don’t want the others to abandon their responsibilities by relying on you.”

“That works for me.”

“Finally, the details of your pact are not my business to meddle into, nor is your relationship with Beel. However, should you try to take advantage of his good nature, you may find yourself paid back seven-fold. Is that clear?”

Bea’s frown deepened. He thought to ask just what Lucifer felt the need to make threats for, but quashed it and gave a simple “Yeah.”

He smiled. “Good. Welcome to the House of Lamentation. You’ll be an interesting one. Especially knowing what’s lurking behind that stoic little face.”

Again that coy air about him. First when Beel admitted to what happened with the cult, now that last comment. He acted like he knew something Bea was supposed to also know. “If you’re referring to something specific, I really don’t know what it is.”

“Is that so? How’s your memory of being sacrificed?”

“I thought you said my pact wasn’t your business.”

“I’m not asking about your pact, I’m asking about your memory.” His gaze was half-lidded and dark, but that darkness only set a red radiance in his eyes into harsher relief. Bea didn’t like him, that much he could tell already, but that radiance reminded him that the creature sitting before him was not human.

“It could be better,” he answered.

“I’ll give you a hint. Beel was summoned by humans. A summoning circle has exactly two purposes. One is to form a gateway between your world and ours. The other is to contain a resident from one realm while he’s in the other. Now, why would anyone have wanted to sabotage that cult’s summoning circle, I wonder.”

“You’re saying I set him loose on them.”

“You’re saying you didn’t?”

“I wouldn’t even know how. I’m not a magic guy.” Hell, before tonight, he thought it was a bunch of woohoo bullshit.

“No?” He still looked too amused to believe Bea. “In any case, I only wanted you to know house rules,” he dismissed. “I believe you’ll be in good hands, just as long as you don’t get eaten. You’re free to go.”

Nausea notwithstanding, he had no desire to sit alone with Lucifer any longer than necessary. He exited the study, bag of bread and half-eaten slice in tow, the feeling of an ancient stare boring through the back of his neck.

Beelzebub waited out in the hall. “Still sick?” he asked.

Bea nodded.

“You can rest in my room for now.”

Bea took the excuse to hold Beelzebub’s arm once more. He’d scold himself later for being so comforted by latching onto a demon like a kid with a giant teddy bear.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise that his room was huge. Reasonably surprising: the fact that it was furnished with two king-sized beds, as well as a couch and a few cushy armchairs. It was too many options.

“Where should I go?”

“Wherever you want. My bed is the one on the left.”

Horizontal was better, but falling asleep in others’ beds hadn’t served him well in the past. So he kicked his shoes off and went for the couch. Beelzebub still stood at the door. “Need anything?” he asked.

“Are you about to go somewhere?”

“Not if you need something first.” Looked like he wouldn’t budge until he got a firm yes or no.

“I did have some questions, if that’s okay.” He finally finished his slice of grassy bread and hugged the bag to himself.

“That’s fine.” He came and sat cross-legged on the floor next to Bea, attentive. Even seated, his size pressed into Bea’s awareness. More so with the proximity, in fact.

“So I guess first. What am I supposed to call you?”

“Everyone calls me Beel, but you can keep calling me Beelzebub if you want.”

Why did Bea’s preference matter? Either way, he was really just supposed to call him by name? No Lord or Sir or Master? “Do you have a title or anything I’m supposed to use?”

“My titles are kind of long. Just use my name.”

“Then the other question… what am I supposed to do here? I only really know that you’re calling me your chef. Your _pet_ chef.”

“That’s all I want. I thought it would be nice to have someone around to cook food between meal times. That way I wouldn’t need to eat out so much. I guess you can cook for the others too if you want.”

Bea stopped himself from squeezing the bread bag too tightly. It felt so stupid to forget something so important, but somehow Beelzebub made it feel a little safer to ask stupid questions. “If I’m honest, I don’t remember most of my pact with you. If there’s anything else I need to know, I want you to tell me. I need to do this right.”

Beelzebub smiled. “I’m glad to hear that. I’m sure you’ll do fine. All I’m asking for is to have you cook for me. And we have time to figure it out, since that last meal was extra filling.” He perked up a moment too late. “Oh.”

He slipped with that passing reference to the elephant in the room. Bea couldn’t stand to ignore it any longer. “You’re going to eat me too at some point, aren’t you?”

“That’s, well…” he took another moment to choose his words. “When I saw you being sacrificed, you didn’t look like you were there willingly. I wanted to try to be fair, so I didn’t eat you then. So let’s not worry about that.”

“So I owe you once as part of the pact and twice for giving me the option in the first place. Sounds like ‘fair’ would be if you had me cook til you got tired of me and collected on that sacrifice you passed up.”

“Is that how humans make deals? You collect on favors you weren’t asked for?”

There was no anger in his question, but it silenced Bea all the same. He buckled under the pressure of an unearthly stare - violet and magenta weighing on him, heavy and still as iron.

“You’re tired, and you don’t feel good,” Beelzebub said, standing. “Rest. I’ll see about getting your room set up.”

Bea let him go wordlessly. Once he was alone, he pulled another grassy-smelling slice of bread from the bag and took a bite. That iron weight didn’t leave with Beelzebub. Instead it stayed with Bea, pressed inside his throat.

He was pissed off?

He couldn’t quite put his finger on why. Was it the way Beelzebub dodged his questions? Was it the way he questioned Bea’s integrity? Or was it how he acted like he didn’t deserve scrutiny? He was a demon. Once Bea let that sink in, he knew he was being set up for deception. Was his probing ruining Beelzebub’s fun?

Maybe what pissed him off was how Beelzebub seemed sincerely, personally offended by his questioning. Now Bea felt like he was the asshole.

He distracted himself with the fact that there were five more of them to meet at some point. Seven demon brothers, one grandiose and intimidating as he would expect of Lucifer himself, the other disorientingly friendly. Or maybe friendly wasn’t the exact word. He tried to wonder what the others might be like, but instead wandered back to how to describe Beelzebub until he fell asleep.

A voice too close and too noisy woke him up. “Well what’s he doin’ sleeping in here?”

Bea’s first reaction was his first reaction to anything he didn’t enjoy: pretend not to notice it and see if it leaves on its own.

“He was poisoned,” Beelzebub’s calmer voice answered. “So I let him rest while he’s feeling sick.”

“Well that’s pointless. The best cure for any sickness is a healthy dose of Mammon!”

Bea flinched too hard when a hand grabbed his shoulder – there was no way the owner wouldn’t know he was awake. “Hey, human. Lemme get a look at you.”

“Mammon.”

“Come on, I know you’re awake. Show me some respect here or I’ll eat ya!”

“Mammon. That’s enough.”

Emboldened by Beelzebub’s severe tone and his own annoyance, Bea scowled over his shoulder at the new presence. He was dressed about the same as Beelzebub (but his clothes looked put together more correctly), and he beamed satisfaction.

“Now was that so hard? You might have come here with Beel, but you’re best off staying on the Great Mammon’s good side.”

Bea stared, face kept sour.

“Aren’t you gonna say something?”

He looked between Beelzebub and this new entrant for some clue as to what an appropriate response could be.

“Bea, it’s okay for you to ignore him.”

“Hey, don’t tell him that! He’s gonna think you’re serious!”

As uncomfortable as it might be, if working foodservice had taught Bea nothing else, it taught him “no” was much harder after the first “yes.” So he gathered his nerve and turned back over and buried his face into the cushions.

“Why you–”

“Mammon. He obviously still doesn’t feel good.”

“Is he that sick he can’t say hi? How you doin’? I’m so honored to meet you, oh Great Mammon?”

“You saw the human. Now leave him alone.”

“Fine, I’ll get him to talk later. Hear that, human? The Great Mammon’s gonna give you an appraisal before the night’s over.”

Bea didn’t move until he heard the door shut.

“That was Mammon,” Beelzebub sighed. “He’s not that bad.”

“He’s loud,” Bea answered into the couch.

“He saw me setting up your room and got curious. How do you feel?”

He found Beelzebub standing nearby when he finally sat up. “Better.”

“Good. I’m going to get changed. See if you can eat any more.” He headed further into the room, but there was a threshold Bea couldn’t see past.

Bea had cuddled the loaf of bread into a tight lump in his sleep, but it wasn’t like he was about to make sandwiches with it anyway. He pried a slice off the compacted loaf, and it went down easier than the one before.

He remembered Beelzebub pressing lips of fire against his chest through dream-haze. That much actually happened, but not the next part where he showed mild discomfort as Beelzebub proceeded to tear off his arm. Nor the following part where he watched his own limb get eaten with the same mournless curiosity he gave a fly in a spider web.

Through the rest of the dream, the clearest parts were no doubt strengthened by true memory: the sounds of Beelzebub’s lips smacking, and the crack of his humerus between teeth once it was shorn of muscle and fat.


	3. Necessities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Running some errands, and meeting another brother, before dinner.

When Beelzebub returned, casually dressed in a t-shirt and loose pants, Bea realized he was going to be a problem. He was huge, that much Bea was already well aware of, but until now he couldn’t tell how the demon was shaped. Or rather, “how he was built” was closer to accurate.

“Your room’s set up, by the way,” Beelzebub said. “You can customize it more later, but right now you can at least sleep and put your stuff in there.”

“Speaking of ‘stuff,’ everything I own is back at home, right? When can I actually go get it?”

“We’d have to talk to Lucifer about that.”

“Well I don’t have any clothes here. Or a phone or any money.”

Beelzebub nodded. “I thought about that. I was thinking we could get you some clothes for the next few days and go from there. I have time before dinner.”

“That’ll have to work then.” Was it really going to be that easy? The situation felt off, for no other reason than the fact that nothing seemed to be going wrong. Bea had no real recourse but to keep it to himself and wait for the rug to get pulled from under him.

No sooner than the two exited the room, someone else accosted them from around a corner of the hall. 

“There he is!” gushed presumably another brother, noticeably smaller than the others but still a head taller than Bea.

Bea backed into Beelzebub, away from the startling sight of another demon barreling toward him.

“This one’s so cute!” the very pretty demon said. “That’s no fair, Beel. Why do you get to keep a human here? I’m Asmodeus, you can just call me Asmo, and I want you to know that no one important will think poorly of you if you decide you want to spend your time with me instead.”

“Okay,” Bea answered. “Thanks?”

“I couldn’t even get a word out of him,” Mammon complained from the same corner Asmodeus just appeared from.

“I don’t blame him,” Asmodeus returned cheerily. “Now what’s your name, dear?”

“Bea.”

“Bea! And don’t you look like the sweetest little honey-Bea I’ve ever met?”

“Did you want something, Asmo?” Beelzebub cut in.

“As a matter of fact I did. I hear your new friend just got dropped into your lap from the human world all of a sudden.” When Beelzebub nodded, he continued, “So does that mean he has no possessions but the clothes on his back right now?”

“Unfortunately,” Bea answered.

“Come on,” Mammon commented, having joined the group. “At least bring something good the next time you get yourself dragged down here. And be sure to hand it over to me while you’re at it.”

“Quiet, scumbag,” Asmodeus snapped. “You know this means you have to go clothes shopping, right? And you’re so lucky you have me to help you.”

“I don’t think you have to help,” Beelzebub said.

“Oh come on, getting possessive already? It’s just a shopping trip.”

He was already looking exasperated. “We just agreed to go together.”

“Then I’m tagging along.” He beamed down at Bea. “I don’t expect Beel to understand, but surely you know the gravity of this situation?”

“I need to go quickly and grab something comfy?” Bea guessed.

“Honey, no. Your wardrobe is a blank canvas now. This is your fashion rebirth! You can’t waste this moment on jeans and t-shirts.”

“And I just wanna get a look at your spending sense,” Mammon added. “Just don’t think you’ll be able to wiggle a dime out of me while I’m there.”

Despite Bea’s protests, there was no dissuading them. Beelzebub clearly found it easiest to let them join.

Asmodeus kept quizzing him on his style and his fantasy wardrobe on the way out. Bea simply did not fantasize about clothing – it was something to keep him covered around others, warm in the wretched wintertime, and stressed when his mother didn’t find it feminine enough.

He found the quaintness of the city much more interesting, considering he was in Hell and didn’t get too good a look the first time walking outside. Street lamps, restaurants, and (mostly) human-shaped residents filled the scenery. Some of the store-fronts displayed deceptively recognizable branding. Cars rolled down the streets.

Had Beelzebub and Lucifer not discussed his arrival here with such serious air, Bea might have wondered if he had simply been taken to another city and dreamed up all the stuff in between about demons and pacts.

“Hey, Beel,” Mammon called, pointing his thumb at a very familiarly designed building boasting a sign that read “McDevil’s.” “You need to stop before we go on? There’s not many restaurants after this block. Gonna be awkward if you get hungry in the store and pick off your human in front of everyone.”

Bea couldn’t tell if it was a joke or a legitimate concern or both, but Beelzebub only gave it brief consideration as he kept walking. “I’m good. Maybe on the way back.”

Both brothers shared a concerned glance at each other, then to Beelzebub. “You’re not sick, are you?” Asmodeus asked.

“No, it’s just that I already ate.”

“When’d you eat enough to still be full?” Mammon asked. “Last I saw you, you were rushing out of class, and the next thing I know, you have a human.”

Beelzebub didn’t answer, so neither did Bea. This only stirred their curiosity further. “He must have gone up to the human world to go get Bea, right?” Asmodeus suggested.

“Yeah, but he said it was sudden. How’d he manage to get enough food from the human world on short notice like that? They all eat like birds next to him!”

Asmodeus hummed. “There’s one thing I can think of that might’ve been filling enough, even for Beel.”

Bea was tempted to just tell them he ate the cult that sacrificed him if for no other reason than to put an end to their probing and speculating. Still, he followed Beelzebub’s lead. They would only get as much detail as they could deduce themselves.

“Seriously?” Mammon asked once the answer dawned on him. “Beel, did you go up there and eat a human?”

Seven. It was seven humans. The four Bea already met several times, plus another three at that get-together he hadn’t met before. Something ugly he didn’t want to think about stirred in his stomach when he thought about four people smiling in his face and having lunches with him and agreeing to drug him, take him to the cornfields, and stab him in the chest. Nor did he want to think about how that ugly something swelled and softened and warmed at the thought of each of them finding their end at the hands of the very demon they sacrificed Bea to.

“Wow, I wonder how Lucifer’s going to react once he finds out,” Asmodeus teased.

“He knows,” Beelzebub finally responded. “I told him first.”

“Damn, and apparently he didn’t have you put in the hole for it. How’d you get away with that?”

Bea wasn’t sure if Beelzebub looked at him, or was just looking both ways before crossing the street.

“And _you_ sure have been quiet about this too,” Mammon said to Bea when Beelzebub ignored him. “Come on, spill. Something happened up there.”

Bea opened his mouth to answer, but soon closed it and shrugged helplessly. Lucifer seemed more concerned with the appearances of Beelzebub having a cult in the first place. That he ate them seemed more a relief than an offense.

“He doesn’t remember much,” Beelzebub answered for him. “What kind of store should we shop at?”

The other two let him change the subject.

The shopping experience wasn’t much more pleasant. Bea partially followed Asmodeus’ advice to treat his wardrobe as a blank canvas, opting for simple patterns and comfy fits rather than masking his belly or getting his silhouette flattered. Asmodeus lamented how quickly Bea shot down the showy pieces he favored. Mammon simply didn’t seem to get why his suggestions were rejected - all rings and watches and bracelets Bea would have to take off anyway as soon as he needed to cook.

By the time Bea picked up underwear, he was hardened to Asmodeus’ fascination. After nearly an hour of turning down his expertise, it became easy to imagine him as the numerous fuckboys on chat apps who thought asking strangers about their underwear was a sexy conversation starter.

Asmodeus and Mammon seemed satisfied after they left the store. Both split from the group, while Beelzebub called to stop at the McDevil’s. Here was where Bea learned just how much his work was cut out for him.

At least he thought to grab a notebook at the store (though when faced with the decision of which one, he had to fight to resist Mammon’s solution to buy them all). He scooted one of Beelzebub’s trays under a watchful eye to make space to write.

“I think I’m gonna need to study what kind of food you have here,” Bea started, taking note of as many strange ingredients as he could identify.

“I figured you wouldn’t know how to cook demon food,” Beelzebub commented with his mouth full. “You can stick with human food for now.”

Bea started to look at Beelzebub, but found he couldn’t lift his eyes past the trays of food. “I didn’t think it would be an option.”

“It’s more expensive. But I think having you buy ingredients instead of cooked meals will balance that out.”

“That makes this easier then. Any particular favorites?”

“Burgers,” Beelzebub shot just as soon as the question left Bea’s mouth.

“Burgers?”

His pause gave Bea space to look at him. That he was so physically commanding might have made his single, grave nod intimidating. But the sight of his stuffed cheeks left Bea struggling to hide a smile instead.

“At least that’s easy.” Bea distracted himself by writing estimates of how many burgers would make a serving for the demon. He’d have to present him with a proper barbecue sandwich at some point. “Anything else?”

“I’m not very picky, so whatever you think is good, we can get ingredients after dinner.” He had resumed eating, no longer pausing before he spoke.

“I’ll come up with a list and see what’s there in the kitchen already.” He wasn’t terribly hopeful to find much familiar. Not judging by the selection of foods Beelzebub had bought for himself.

Defying physical explanation, Beelzebub thoroughly cleaned up his mountain of food, even crunching down on what definitely sounded like skeletal matter. How was Bea supposed to keep up with that?

They returned home with Bea’s purchases in tow. Bea declined Beelzebub’s offer to carry it all to the house. Once reminded of the path to his room, he fell into bed and stared at the foliage on the wall, hoping to soak up the silence and isolation to recharge his brain.

Something wasn’t right with the demons. They were too nice, too interested in him. Sure, they made comments implying his disposability at times. Still too nice. Bea was at best a servant made out of food. There was no reason they should be letting him call them by name and pick out his own clothes on their dime.

He decided to try dissecting that again later, after dinner. For now, he pulled his purchases out of their bags. Asmodeus was right that the pieces were quite boring. Slacks chosen for mobility and thigh roominess, button-downs in subtle patterns and unassuming colors. Just to get a little wild, different color t-shirts, in case he wanted to wear the aforementioned button-downs unbuttoned. Asmodeus was also right to insist that this was probably the only time Bea would have deviated from his default shopping objective to find something the wouldn’t offend the sensitivities of those with strong opinions on how he should dress.

He smiled despite himself in the middle of hanging up clothes. As exhausting as Asmodeus had been, none of his concerns were that Bea’s picks weren’t girly enough. Only boring. These demons called him “he,” didn’t tell him he couldn’t like the name he was given, didn’t demand explanations for things he still didn’t know for sure about himself.

He wasn’t going to get emotional about it.

The door swung open, startling him into a shout. “Honey-Bea, dinner’s ready!” Asmodeus announced, singsong. “Come out and meet your audience!”

He was going to need to try the lock on the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going to try to update as close to weekly as possible, but I couldn't help myself this time.


	4. Mealtime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bea observes all seven brothers in their natural habitat.

Upon being summoned to dinner, Bea stalled off any attempt to sit at the dinner table under the pretense of helping Asmodeus carry the food to the dining room. Among everything there was to worry about, the proper place to sit for dinner was probably on the lowest tiers of the danger scale. That knowledge didn’t make him worry any less.

He felt a certain gratitude at remembering he wasn’t expected to cook main meals for the whole family. The pot he carried was fucking heavy.

“It’s not too heavy, is it?” Asmodeus asked over his shoulder as Bea trailed behind him.

“No, not too much. Guess it’s just these short legs.”

The path was mercifully direct. Lucifer was already seated at the head of the table. No surprise he’d be punctual, but Bea would have preferred seeing more demons present to gauge the seating arrangement.

Unfortunately, as soon as he tried to stall by volunteering to bring flatware, Lucifer asked, “Why don’t you have a seat, Bea?”

Asmodeus reassured him that Lucifer wouldn’t bite him (yet) before exiting to retrieve flatware himself. Bea sat at the nearest chair and immediately overthought the possible implications of sitting exactly opposite to Lucifer.

“I trust Beel has been seeing to getting you accommodated?” Lucifer asked.

“Yeah, I’m getting settled.”

“Good to hear.”

He didn’t have much conversation to make with the demon sitting tall and straight as an oak across from him. Lucifer seemed content to silently crush him under his mere presence.

Beelzebub arrived with a yet unknown brother. He offered a smile as they sat on either side of him. All seven brothers soon converged at the table, Beelzebub having already started picking from the stew in the serving dish by the time utensils arrived. The last brother to arrive gave a gold-eyed sweep of the room and asked “What’s with the human?” as he sat.

“You should introduce your contractor, Beel,” Lucifer suggested.

“This is Bea,” he answered, then swallowed. “We have a pact. He’s going to be my chef.”

“One of you trying to feed a whole Beel?” the last entrant asked. “RIP in pieces XD”

“Some of us already had the pleasure of getting acquainted,” Asmodeus gloated.

“Is that so?” asked another who stayed quiet. “Then I’ll introduce myself. I’m Satan. I’m looking forward to any amount of help we can get keeping Beel fed.”

Satan.

“Leviathan. F.”

It took Bea a moment to dissect the F. When he did, he was bewildered to realize the Leviathan – just “Leviathan,” no “the” – spoke in memes.

The remaining brother had plated his food quietly, ate as if he hadn’t even noticed Bea or the conversation. Bea waited. Even Beelzebub looked up from his plate to the brother sitting across from him.

“That one is Belphegor,” Lucifer said. “Unfortunately, he’s quite given to petty displays of dissent over the tiniest matters.”

“Thanks everyone. It’s good to meet all of you.”

“Anyway, on to more important matters,” Mammon said. “Why does Beel get to keep a human here and I don’t? I could have had a pretty little harem by now if you’d let me!”

“Mammon, that is precisely why you’re not allowed to have humans over,” Lucifer answered. “I will not have the House of Lamentation reduced to a brothel.”

“And what’s wrong with brothels?” Asmodeus asked.

“Lucifer’s right, it sucks enough already having you normies around bothering me,” Leviathan chimed in.

The table quickly swelled into bickering over the guest policy, soon derailing into any tangentially related indictments they could make against each other. By the time Bea’s food was plated (by Beelzebub dropping something squishy with eyeballs in it between bites), he was horrified at what his mere presence here had started.

He nudged the stir-fry on his plate around. Argument melted into a homogenous noise of discontent as he analyzed the food instead. It had a dense meat smell. What particular meat, he couldn’t name, but the smell had sort of depth he recalled from the few times he ate cooked organs. When manipulated with a fork, it didn’t show the striations muscle had, cementing the hypothesis that this was some kind of offal. An eye yielded to an experimental pierce with a fork.

A particularly loud snap from Satan jolted Bea’s attention from his plate. Lucifer gently returned, “Must you raise your voice?” Bea had long lost the trail of the argument by this point.

Belphegor never got swept into the argument, only occasionally chuckled at a flung insult without commenting. Nor did Beelzebub, not beyond pausing to scan the room every now and then. Neither showed much concern, providing a calm buffer between Bea and the uproar his arrival caused.

Leviathan was the first to leave, citing a show he had to catch up on. Others filed out of the dining room until Asmodeus collected the cleared serving pot, humming, and left Bea with Beelzebub and Belphegor.

“You know he won’t replace Cass, right?” Belphegor asked. His first words spoken in Bea’s presence felt like both the kind of discussion he wasn’t meant to hear and a charge read directly to him.

“I don’t expect him to,” Beelzebub said.

“That’s not the impression I’m getting. I hear you gave him her room.” Much of his face was hidden behind a fringe of hair and his laced-together fingers, but his voice was light and steady.

“She hasn’t been back in years.”

“So that’s long enough to forget her?”

Bea needed to leave. He turned in his seat and noticed an eye, bright violet and magenta, fixed on him. “I’ll be in… the room,” he blurted, spurred by Belphegor’s stare.

“I’ll come with you,” Beelzebub volunteered, rising. “This isn’t a ‘now’ conversation.”

Belphegor didn’t try to stop them, only mumbled out, “Fine. Later.”

Bea stepped too quickly, too stiffly. Belphegor put him on high alert. More than that. For the first time tonight, the real feeling of danger broke a fissure into the suspension of belief that had protected Bea’s optimism. For the first time, he thought with full sincerity that _this is really happening._

“Sorry… about Belphie,” Beelzebub said at his side, easily keeping pace. “He’s not bad. I think he was just surprised.”

That calculated reaction was what surprise looked like? Bea wanted to know if he was a danger. But he was certain that would only earn him the same “don’t worry about it” response the question of being eaten had gotten him. He hummed acknowledgment, but held his tongue until they reached “his” room.

The space had become hostile with his new knowledge, as if touching anything might electrocute him. But the shut door offered the comfort of seclusion, so he stood in the middle of the room away from any walls or furniture.

“I didn’t know this room belongs to someone else,” Bea started, looking up to Beelzebub for an answer.

“It used to. Kind of. It was the room we set up for a family member who visited us for an exchange program with the human realm. Cassie. We didn’t know at first she was family, but we found out eventually. But she went back to the human realm when the exchange was over and we haven’t heard from her since.”

Were they expecting to? And suppose she did come back, only to find Bea had been moved into her room while she was gone. What then? “Is there another room I can stay in? This place is huge, there must be somewhere else I can stay that’s not gonna cause problems.”

“I’ll talk to Belphie. You’re not causing any problems.”

How could he say that? Even if he believed it, could he prove it? “Are you sure? I even caused a fight at dinner just by being here. If you need to keep me out of the way then just – I’d rather do that than have fights breaking out because I’m here.”

“That? That was normal for dinner time.” He had a relaxed look that almost sold his claim. “If it wasn’t you, they’d find some other reason to start arguing.”

Bea folded his arms, still skeptical. Just sitting to the side and observing them carry on like that left him wondering how easily he could find excuses to avoid dinner from now on.

“Hey, let’s go shopping. We can get you another room if you’re really worried. But for tonight at least, this room is already set up for you, so feel free to use it.”

There wasn’t much more Bea could ask than that, so he simply answered “Alright” and hoped he could believe Beelzebub's reassurances.


	5. Preparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bea and Beelzebub go grocery shopping. Bea gets mentally prepared for work.

Equipped with a notebook and Beelzebub’s knowledge, Bea took stock of what was in the kitchen. Beelzebub identified for him minotaur tongues, drake eggs, hellfire mushrooms in the fridge, spice bottles in the pantry full of dried poisonous leaves, a bag of bone flour, an oil that sunk a hint of despair into Bea when he shifted the bottle. Beelzebub got too tempted during all the food logging and had to retrieve a can of sweet-and-sour kraken.

Now more thoroughly understanding the materials available in the kitchen, they headed out to shop. Bea never thought he’d be able to say “Beelzebub is driving me to the store,” but there he was, brainstorming ideas for what would be easy to cook in large batches.

He asked about Beelzebub’s schedule. In line with the strange passing mention Lucifer made before, he had school and left at 8 for his morning classes. He typically brought snacks with him to hold him until lunch, or stopped somewhere and bought them before class. An afternoon class after that, followed by a weekly student council meeting and daily fangol club meeting.

“Fangol?” Bea repeated, scribbling the days’ food milestones.

Beelzebub hummed affirmation. “It’s the sport I play.”

Bea failed to bite back a smile at the strangely endearing realization that Beelzebub was the jock brother. Bea’s own soft spot aside, it started to explain his Herculean physique where his brothers had lighter builds.

The grocery store, like everything else so far, was disorientingly familiar with a parking lot and shopping carts lined up front. With Beelzebub handling the cart, Bea was free to indulge in inspecting the items available. Produce in the front certainly looked produce-like, though most bore spiked rinds, prickly spines, and rock-hard shells. Breads and cakes in the bakery were either a dull bone-flour grey, or they displayed the absurdly bright colors that indicated poison in nature.

Beelzebub entertained his curious exploration, only really directing them when he wanted to pick up a few dozen bags of bat chips from the dry snacks. Unfamiliarity tempted Bea to grab random items to experiment with later, but he saved the stockpiling until they reached a section of the store dedicated to human realm items.

He collected sandwich toppings from a smaller, much less threatening produce section, some starches that would surely come in handy, some pantry staples, anything that seemed like he’d want to have it on hand. He had no concept of the price of anything, only that the items in the “human realm” area of the store were more expensive than their regular-shelf counterparts.

“Let me know if I’m pushing out of budget,” he told Beelzebub, re-packing the cart contents to optimize space.

“You’re fine,” Beelzebub answered, offering a small, disarming smile. “I’m just excited to see what you’ll make.”

“I have a couple ideas for foods that should travel well so you can take them to school.” He found his cart rearrangement satisfactory. “Last thing we need is meats.”

“Oh, we already passed the butcher.” Beelzebub redirected them upon receiving the request.

“I know, I just wanted to get meats last.”

“Really? Why?”

“Well, it’s meat. You want to minimize the amount of time it’s out at room temperature, and I thought we might be here an hour or more.”

“What happens when it’s at room temperature?”

“After too long it goes bad. I don’t know if you’d be affected by food poisoning now that I’m thinking about it. But at the very least, the smell and taste gets pretty gross when it goes bad.”

He hummed thoughtfully, as if taking in completely new information. “I’m glad you know so much about how to keep human world food.”

What was going on with the food here that they didn’t have to think about keeping meat cold?

“Anyway, we need another basket,” Beelzebub added.

“You think? I made some more space.”

“That won’t be enough,” he answered with barely a glance at the basket.

They reached the butcher, once again piquing Bea’s curiosity. Another rather human-looking demon emerged from the back – human-looking, save for the incredible feat of being a little taller than Beelzebub, and for having not two but four muscular arms.

The butcher greeted Beelzebub in a melodic tongue and resonant voice, but Bea didn’t understand a word he said. Beelzebub, on the other hand, responded easily in the same melodic language, though still giving the short responses Bea had come to expect from him.

Bea staggered his inspection of the meats and organs on display to glance at the conversing demons. For a moment, he figured the butcher didn’t even notice him. But a slight nod in Bea’s direction indicated he was very much aware of his presence. At least he had the decency to slightly conceal discussing Bea right in front of him.

Beelzebub said something, and the butcher’s mouth split into a wide smirk, revealing sharp, pointed teeth as he spoke. A subtler smile appeared on Beelzebub’s face when he answered and waved off whatever the butcher said to him. “Hey, Bea,” he said, suddenly understandable. “I’ll be right back, I’m getting another cart.”

“Oh, okay.” He would have preferred to stay by Beelzebub’s side, especially with another demon present, but the decision was announced so nonchalantly he’d feel silly protesting.

“Let me know if I can help you with anything,” the butcher said warmly as Beelzebub headed off toward the entrance. A name tag on his shirt shifted scripts, showing “Abby” when it took on Roman letters.

“I will, thanks.” Honestly, he was rather handsome, a couple shades darker than Bea with locked hair held back in an elaborate knot that looked like it’d take a demon’s ageless patience to tie and untie on any regular basis. Bea caught himself wondering if all humanoid demons were this good-looking. He didn’t bother scolding himself for the implication that extended to Beelzebub. His contracted demon was quite handsome. No shame in admitting that.

But now, back to business. He reviewed his list and confirmed he still agreed with the weights he calculated. After ordering a dozen pounds each of ground beef, pork loin, and as many chickens, he stayed to look curiously at the unfamiliar meats on display while Abby disappeared to the back to prepare what the paltry display case didn’t have room to accommodate.

Beelzebub returned shortly with another shopping cart. Abby emerged with the order and both customers were skeptical, for different reasons.

The ground beef was incredibly dense. The pork loin was pitch black and appeared to trail shadows behind it (but Bea was fairly certain the drugs were out of his system by now). The chickens seemed mostly fine, and Abby even separated organs and feet into another bag for him, but Bea had never seen a chicken with nipples before.

Beelzebub’s concern: “That won’t be enough.”

“Need me to double that for you?” Abby asked.

“Uh hold on,” Bea cut in, glancing at a log of darkness wrapped in cellophane behind the counter. “I was hoping for meat from the human world.”

They settled on a second iteration of the order, with human world counterparts, as long as Bea was willing to try out the Devildom items already retrieved. He was happy to take a stab at it. As it turned out, “beef, pork, and chicken” translated to “minotaur, shadow swine, and harpy” here.

Another few nervous thoughts nipped at Bea on the way out over the cost of so much exotic food. But Beelzebub showed no sign of concern or resentment for the investment. A little emboldened, Bea grabbed a couple of cooking magazines from the newsstand.

Small talk in the car was a little less focused on meal planning on the ride back, revealing a little more about the demons’ school obligations and Beelzebub’s coursework. He was in class on public blasphemy and another on pact ethics. A special topics course in heresy was set up for him this term. He was retaking potions II. The mention gave Bea a bittersweet realization that he’d never have to retake algebra again.

“Hey Beelzebub,” Bea called during a pause in the conversation.

Beelzebub hummed acknowledgment.

“At the store, when the butcher was first talking to you, what was he saying?”

“He thought you were a special request,” he answered carefully. “I told him you weren’t. Then he asked if we were dating.”

On the former matter, Bea didn’t feel too horrified at the guy’s curiosity. As for the latter, he could only laugh.

“What?”

“I thought it might be something major if he had to speak another language.”

“You don’t think that’s major?”

“What part?” He was probably desensitized to the thought of being eaten by now.

Beelzebub didn’t answer.

They returned to the house and put away groceries without much further ceremony than Bea’s impassioned explanation that raw human world meats wouldn’t last a full week in the fridge and some needed to go to the freezer.

Come curfew time, Bea couldn’t sleep.

He normally enjoyed some peaceful solitude. But normally that solitude came by choice. Back in the human world, if he wanted to, he could always leave his apartment at midnight and go to a diner to see other people. At the very least, he had social media to simulate connection.

Bea considered his yet-unread magazines, the alarm clock, the possibility of taking a walk. There was no telling what the actual consequences would be for him breaking curfew. Violating rules on the first night wasn’t the look he wanted to go for. He tried laying down and willing sleep to come, tried counting his breaths and even tried wrangling thoughts into the shapes of letters in his notebook. These attempts only handed him over to speculation and reflection, now let loose to intrude wherever it wished.

He had run out of things to distract himself.

How long would it really take for someone to report him missing, in a town he’d lived in all alone for just a year?

Who would raise a question at the beginning of class? Who might shrug in response or quirk a brow? Who would wonder silently for a moment and keep moving, the pace of their thoughts unhindered by his absence?

How much time would pass between him going missing and becoming a missing person case? How long would he be a missing person when he finally gets devoured by a real demon in Hell?

Unwelcome thoughts planted unwelcome feelings.

Bea shook his head slowly, but not at the situation. Only at his own stupid self for crying over it. He had been given food and shelter by a creature who had every right to tear him apart on sight, and he had the audacity to mourn importance he never had and friendships he never made.

It was fine. The worst part was the very first cry, when he was forced to witness his ineffectiveness at controlling his own body. His ego’s glass shell had already shattered, now he could focus on processes, on stopping that unprotected piece of mind from cutting itself on the shards. Lay back. Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth. Blink to clear the salt. Keep the body calm and the mind will follow.

Once his breathing regained proper air flow, he sat up and fanned his heated skin with his notebook. Loathe as he was to be subjected to a curfew after leaving his parents’ home, he submitted to gratitude. He would never live it down if someone were to barge in like Asmo had earlier and see him crying on his first night here.

Though, someone was out and about. He could hear them on the other side of the wall, rooting around in the kitchen. He thought to join them, if for no other reason than to banish loneliness. Was it a test of obedience?

Bea listened to kitchen noises long enough to convince himself it wasn’t. There had to be more convincing reasons to lure someone out of a room at night. Like food apparently for the occupant of the next room over. It must have been Beelzebub, considering how his hunger defied satiety once the satisfaction of human flesh wore off.

Against his better judgment, Bea stepped out of his room to meet the midnight kitchen poacher. The door to the walk-in fridge was open. Bea approached silently, paused just shy of the doorway when he found Beelzebub. The cold showed no sign of bothering the immortal body standing shirtless and slurping down yogurt packs by the second.

Bea didn’t know what to say. Hi? Still hungry? I’m experiencing a childish emotional outburst and would like to be told to suck it up, please and thank you? He felt silly coming over here at all. He needed to be strong now more than ever. Lean into the stoicism that even Lucifer had perceived. He had his cry, had seized back control, was still safe and sound after handling the problem in private. At least until he knew it was safe, he had it in him to shove back any needy, weak urges.

He made the final decision not to trouble his demon with petty problems, backed from the fridge, and returned to the bedroom.


	6. School Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First day on the job.

The fear of Belphegor’s judgment for using this room had been a powerful force. But at 4 a.m. and without anything else to do, Bea could only feel gratitude for having a room with its own shower attached to it. Once he was dressed, he took a cursory look at one of his cooking magazines, but ultimately he returned to writing the meal plan he failed to set up the previous night.

As soon as the alarm clock read 5:00, he pushed up from the table to head to the kitchen. He found a soft lunch box, presumably Beelzebub’s, left on the island. It didn’t look anywhere close to big enough to hold the amount of food his demon needed. He opened it anyway, and found that the inside was far deeper and wider than the lunchbox looked from the outside.

“Fancy,” Bea murmured as he rotated the lunchbox in his hands.

He placed it back on the island and retrieved ingredients from the walk-in. Burgers maybe wouldn’t be the best after sitting in a lunchbox for a couple hours, but Bea wasn’t as familiar with snacks as he was with entrees, and Beelzebub had asked for them.

While he cut toppings, Satan entered yawning. “Morning, Bea,” he greeted, heading to the sink.

Bea greeted back a “Hi” as Satan washed his hands.

“Getting an early start?” Satan asked, retrieving an apron hanging at the back wall.

“I figured I would. I’ve got a lot to make if seeing Beelzebub at dinner last night was anything to go by.” He chose not to mention that he was also stalling because he wasn’t familiar with using an indoor wood stove.

“That’s a pragmatic approach. I’ll get the stove started. Let me know if you need help finding anything.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Bea took quiet note of how to arrange the wood inside the stove, as best as he could see at least. Thankfully, Satan lit the fire with a match rather than with a snap of his finger. He’d be in trouble if he couldn’t even start the stove due to lack of magic propensity.

Satan left the fire to grow and situated himself across the island from Bea. “What are you making?” he asked.

“Human world burgers. For Beel’s snacks.” He eyed a huge, opalescent egg Satan cracked to reveal a cloudy white and shimmering yolk. “You?”

“Just some scrambled drake egg. I’ll make pancakes to go with it.”

“Since we’ll probably have to share the stove, do you mind if I take the left side?”

“No problem.”

“So, are you all in school?”

“That’s right. It’s quite new. Diavolo spent some time researching human world schools, had RAD built, and within a couple decades had the first exchange program.”

“RAD?”

“The Royal Academy of Diavolo.”

“Oh.” Whoever Diavolo was, he must have been pretty damn important. He tucked that into the back of his mind to ask about later if he needed to. “Beelzebub was telling me about his classes yesterday. The subjects here are definitely something else.”

“What kinds of things did you study in the human world?”

“Well, at the time of our meeting, I was struggling through my third time taking algebra.”

“Algebra?” He hummed. There was something pointed about it, but Bea couldn’t name exactly what. “Well, I hear it’s common for humans to dislike math, so it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Hey. I love math.” He paused his tomato slicing to cast Satan an annoyed look. “But I love fun math. Calculating the Galois group of some random field extension of **Q** is not fun.”

Satan lit with a smile. “Ah. _That_ algebra.”

He seemed alright. Certainly not as overbearing as Asmo and Mammon had been, rather probing here and there from a place of distant curiosity. He recommended the library in case Bea had free time during the day, a recommendation received with full interest.

And he was accommodating enough with the shared kitchen space. Bea couldn’t complain there. Satan commented on how precisely Bea planned his work as he dug up a griddle for him. He worked similarly, offering an efficient tandem of independent processes in the kitchen.

Halfway through cooking the burger patties, a wrench got thrown into the well-coordinated works.

“Smells good in here,” came Beelzebub’s familiar voice.

Both chefs on duty greeted him in turn. “Breakfast is almost done,” Satan offered. “How about we let it reach the dining table before eating it?”

Beelzebub hummed, browsing the contents of the island. Bea returned his attention to the griddle in front of him.

“What are you making, Bea?”

“Burgers for your snack,” he answered, flipping a couple of nearly-done patties. “They probably won’t be piping hot, but I think you’ll enjoy them.”

At his side, Satan whispered his name and nodded quickly toward Beelzebub. Bea followed the motion to find Beelzebub at the island with three patties in one hand and the others already missing from the plate.

“Wait, stop!” It had only taken seconds. He didn’t bother hurrying over. Those last three patties were in his mouth by the time the sentence was out.

“These are really good!”

“Those were for later.”

“It’s okay. They were for me anyway, right?” He looked nothing but pleased, which was good for him but didn’t help the fact that Bea’s planning was now out of the window. He had prepared toppings for exactly twenty-four burgers. He was going to be behind schedule now on getting them assembled and wrapped.

“How about you wait out in the dining room?” Satan nudged before Beelzebub could move on to the partially prepared breakfast.

“Right.” He glanced at Bea once more before leaving the kitchen.

Satan sighed. “Sorry I didn’t warn you about that.”

“I’m guessing that’s a common occurrence.”

“If there’s food around, there’s a good chance he’ll eat it. He’s earlier than usual today. Maybe he wanted to check on you.”

Bea didn’t like the sound of that.

He didn’t purport to help Satan move breakfast, instead using the burger-planning setback as his excuse to avoid the dining room. Beelzebub’s snacks were just almost done – burger number 22 of 24 being wrapped – when he returned to the kitchen, a plate in hand.

“I didn’t see you at breakfast,” he said once Bea welcomed him in. “Did you eat?”

“No, I’ve been focused in here. Wanted to keep working with this fire while it’s still going.” On to number 23.

“Well, this is all that’s left.” Beelzebub set the plate down on the island as Bea assembled the final sandwich. “You should eat it.”

“Oh, thanks.” He meant it, though he had no plan to move for it until he was done.

“Make sure you don’t miss meals,” Beelzebub pressed a little further into the topic, one hand holding on to the opposite wrist. It was kind of cute.

“Sure. Though realistically even if I do miss a meal I’ll probably just cook something for myself a little later.” Beelzebub only offered a hum and a skeptical “okay” as the final burger joined the others in his lunchbox. “There you go,” Bea said as he offered it.

“Beel, there you are,” Belphegor’s soft voice said at the kitchen threshold. “I thought I’d find you here.”

“Hey Belphie. Want to walk together?” He received the lunchbox and approached his brother.

“Sure. But what about your pet? Shouldn’t you leash him so he doesn’t run away?”

Bea sneered quietly, but Beelzebub considered him as if sincerely working out the logistics. “You’re not going to leave, are you?” he asked.

“Uh, I don’t plan to,” Bea answered, taken aback by the direct question.

“I think it’s fine then. I’ll see you later.”

“See you.” That was settled easier than Bea would have thought. Not that he had anywhere to run off too anyway.

Satan returned soon after with dishes while Bea was still tasting the Devildom equivalent of eggs and pancakes. ‘Sorry, but you missed breakfast,” he apologized as he entered. “Beel came and cleaned up as soon as he sat down.”

“I’m fine, he brought me a plate before he left.” He indicated the half-eaten eggs on his plate as he spoke.

“He did? Wow. Good for you then.” He deposited a huge serving dish and several plates in the sink. “I’m sorry to leave you like this, but I have an exam coming up and need to meet with my professor before class today. I hope you can excuse the mess this one time.”

Bea cast a doubtful glance at the stack of dishes Satan placed. “I don’t think I can make any promises there,” he warned.

Satan was nonplussed. “Then perhaps you’ll find it in you to forgive me in the future.” He didn’t wait for any further response before hurrying out of the kitchen. A couple others passed through – Asmodeus for a water bottle and Lucifer for one more mug of coffee – before the hour and the silence in the house suggested that he was alone.

Bea added his cleared plate to the dishes in the sink. He hadn’t yet decided if he’d wash them (just this once) just to free the workspace or if he’d leave them for Satan just to prove a point. For now, he had hours to himself. Sleep was probably the healthiest choice considering the two or three hours tops he got overnight, but he was up now and wasn’t feeling sleepy. Maybe a little exploration of the house was in order.

The exhaustive method made the most sense for his purpose: starting first with this floor and trying every room available. He passed through the dining room with its varied polished skulls and wondered what creatures’ trophies warranted display in a place like this. He found a living room with a fireplace and a dragon statue that further inspection revealed to be a taxidermized wingless dragon. A music room featured a piano, vinyl records, sheet music.

A hall ended at the library. Bea was instantly fascinated. Two floors presented stacks filled to the brim. A table sat on each floor for reading and notetaking. What kinds of books would Bea find in a demon library?

He had to find out. On the first floor, he found historical reference materials. Books on the history of Devildom filled several shelves, organized chronologically and going back in time on the path Bea took. Time periods at specific locations flowed into condensed world histories, then to natural history.

Bea stopped at a multi-volume collection titled “Natural History of Lesser Demons,” and he pulled the first volume. A quick flip revealed entries for Ahuizotl, Akaname, Amphiptere, and Amphisbaena. He was hooked. If he could easily purchase harpy and minotaur and whatever a shadow swine was at a grocery store, what other kinds of creatures existed here?

Eventually he found a seat at the first-floor table when he tired of shifting from foot to foot in front of the shelf. He read about the diet of hand-tailed water dogs and their domestication for shallow aquatic hunting until he had to sit back and rest his eyes with a few hard blinks.

The library around him, Victorianesque as the rest of the home, offered comfortably dim light. The house was silent. He still had planning to prepare, recipes to look up, cooking to do. But the library was nice and smelled of old paper, and the previous sleepless night was finally catching up with him.

He rested his head on his folded arms. He just needed a few minutes. He’d work ahead on Beelzebub’s after-school meal when he woke up.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always greatly appreciated! ♡


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